| And in the days of to come
|
| The sound of iron and the sound of drums
|
| And in the days of to come
|
| The earth shall seethe and the clouds will bleed
|
| And in the days of to come
|
| Will we be drowned in a sea of scum?
|
| And in the days of to come
|
| Will man spew out a bastard son?
|
| But from the forest and the field
|
| Here she comes, here she comes
|
| Beneath the turning of the sun’s wheel
|
| Here she comes, here she comes
|
| From her womb of growing corn
|
| We are reborn, we are reborn
|
| Her moon that lights us 'till the dawn
|
| Here she comes, here she comes
|
| And in the days that will be
|
| The doors of hope will have no key
|
| And in the days that will be
|
| No books or gods, only greed
|
| And in the days it will show
|
| That the rule of gold will drag us low
|
| And in great halls where treason breeds
|
| Even noble hearts become diseased
|
| But from the forest and the field
|
| Here she comes, here she comes
|
| Beneath the turning of the sun’s wheel
|
| Here she comes, here she comes
|
| And from her womb of growing corn
|
| We are reborn, we are reborn
|
| Her moon that lights us 'till the dawn
|
| Here she comes, here she comes
|
| And from the forest and the field
|
| Here she comes, here she comes
|
| Beneath the turning of the sun’s wheel
|
| Here she comes, here she comes
|
| And from her womb of growing corn
|
| We are reborn, we are reborn
|
| Her moon that lights us 'till the dawn
|
| Here she comes, here she comes
|
| Here she comes, here she comes
|
| Here she comes, here she comes
|
| Here she comes, here she comes
|
| Here she comes, here she comes |